Ten Years Later
by K100
Summary: Ten years after Sunnydale, the gang is back together to celebrate a marriage and the loves they lost. Buffy also deals with her feelings about her family and her father. New Chapter, ONE FAMILY
1. Four Gifts

**Ten Years Later**

**FOUR GIFTS**

Buffy walked barefoot through the upstairs hallway, with her light blue dress fluttering behind her. At the top of the landing, Buffy watched Xander and Giles run up the stairs. The dog followed them.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked. "Why aren't you two dressed?"

Xander looked at his watch and slipped past her into one of the bedrooms. "We've got loads of time, Buff."

She turned to Giles. "What's wrong?"

Giles put his glasses on. "We were helping Jeffery's father set up the last of the chairs."

"I thought you finished that last night."

"We didn't have time after we located the origin of the curse."

In England, they didn't fight as many vampires as in Sunnydale, but curses were popular.

Giles smiled. "But it's done now. The guests are arriving."

Buffy inhaled. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, your aunt is in charge of getting the food set up. Your cousins are out front telling people where to park."

She stared at him skeptically.

"Buffy, everything is fine."

"Maybe I'll go check downstairs—"

He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "All you need to worry about is Dawn."

Two months ago when Dawn and Jeffery decided to get married, no one was surprised. They had been together for years after having met in London. But when they wanted to "just get it over with," Buffy had to beg Dawn to let her throw a proper wedding.

The only request Dawn and Jeffery had was that the ceremony be simple. Buffy worked hard to keep it simple. The wedding was outside, the food was catered by a local restaurant, Jeffery worked at a bakery so he made the wedding cake, and the tables and chairs scattered on the lawn were an eclectic mixture of things found at yard sales and second hand stores. Giles, Xander, and Jeffery spent weeks putting together picnic tables.

The past two months had been the most wonderfully stressful of Buffy's life. She planned the entire thing with little time or money. She had not slept in days and loved every minute of it. She felt normal. There were moments when her destiny seemed only to plan the perfect (and simple) wedding for Dawn.

Giles eagerly offered his house for the event. The scenic views and short drive from Jeffery's hometown made it a perfect location. It was a large and old two story stone house about two hours outside of London. Even after Giles sold off half of the land to pay for repairs, the house still sat on twenty acres of rolling hills. After inheriting it from an aunt about five years ago, Giles and the others had slowly gone to great pains to restore the estate.

A few summers ago, when Giles was away on Watcher business, Buffy took down the wallpaper and repainted most of the interior. The new paint was mostly white and pale yellows—it brightened the rooms substantially. Dawn and Jeffery, when they lived there briefly, cut back some of the overgrown ivy from the windows to let in more light. Giles never complained about any of their home improvements.

In recent years, when not traveling to some far away land to fight some foreign demon, they all gravitated to England. Xander, Willow had apartments elsewhere and Dawn had lived with Jeffery for about a year, but when they convened, it was at Giles' house. After selling her place in Rome, Buffy's only real home was his home. And Buffy was the only one who had her own room.

After Sunnydale, the group tried to spend holidays and birthdays together, but they often failed in those attempts. It was Thanksgiving, however, that they were never allowed to miss. Oddly enough, it was Giles who demanded that they spend that holiday together. Buffy know that if it were not for his demands, they all may have drifted farther apart. That yearly ritual was the thing that led them back to something they had long ago.

Last Christmas was the first Christmas since Sunnydale that the entire gang celebrated it together. It was then that Willow formally named the massive English estate _Fort Giles_. To make it official, Xander carved _Fort Giles_ into the cross sections of an old tree stump and placed it near the front drive.

"People are already here?" Buffy asked. She went to the end of the hallway and looked out the second story window. A few people were mingling on the back lawn with wrapped gifts in their hands.

Buffy went back to Giles. "You need to get dressed."

He was wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt.

"You can't walk her down the aisle in that."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "How are you doing, Buffy?"

"I'd be better if you put your suit on."

He nodded. "Right."

Jeffery ran up the stairs. The groom was not dressed, either. He was a tall and lean Englishman with red hair. Buffy had never in her life met anyone who smiled as much as Jeffery. It never left his face. At first, she thought it was fake, but over time she realized that he was just honestly happy—all the time. His happiness was infectious. She was fond of him.

"God," Buffy said, "What is it with you guys? Get dressed."

Giles patted Jeffery on the back. "Ready, son?"

Buffy interjected. "He's not ready—he's not dressed."

"Well," Giles said, "that's not exactly what I meant."

Jeffery nodded. "I'm ready. I feel great. Do you have any words of wisdom, Giles? All my dad said to me was, 'If you mess this up, I won't let you move back home.'"

"Ah, I'm not sure. I've not been lucky in love, so I may not be the best person for advice." He sighed. "I have learned, however, that if you put your heart above all else, you'll never lose. I hear it's not easy, though."

Jeffery hugged Giles, and then he hugged Buffy.

"Get dressed," Buffy said.

Giles smiled and led Jeffery into the bedroom Xander had gone into.

When the door closed behind them, Buffy was left alone in the hall with the dog. She took deep breath stared into the eyes of her big, bouncy Boxer.

"Skip, she's getting married," she whispered to the dog. "My little sister is getting married."

She patted the dog on the head and opened the door to the master bedroom where Dawn was getting ready.

Willow and Dawn were sifting through the many shades of lipstick they had spread out on the bed.

"What if I say the wrong thing?" Willow asked, "Could that mean that the marriage isn't legal?"

"Willow, we already signed the paperwork. Technically, Jeffery and I are already married. This is just a party."

"I have a cheat-sheet in case I blank out. I just want it to be perfect." Willow's dress was a soft yellow. Once she'd decided to officiate the ceremony, it took her weeks to find the right dress that was both carefree and authoritative.

"It'll be perfect," Buffy said.

"Hey, Buffy." Willow turned around. "Are the guys ready?"

"Almost." Buffy drew back the blinds and light spilled into the room. The light stretched across the back of Dawn's shoulders. "It's such a beautiful day." Buffy stared out the window. "Everything is in bloom. Giles planted those flowers near the getting-married spot just for today."

Dawn stood and Buffy took her in. Like the ceremony, Dawn's dress was simple. It flowed around her body when she moved. It looked white at first glance, but it was really a very light blue.

Willow sighed. "You're so beautiful, Dawnie."

Buffy and Dawn just stared at each other—eyes locked, knowing. There was so much to say. There was so much to remember.

Since moving to Europe, things had changed between them. It seemed it was Dawn who made the decisions for them now. The first two years were spent in Rome, and they were only there because Dawn wanted to live there. Willow, Xander, and Giles were busy traveling the globe and training the new ones, and that left just Buffy and Dawn. They suddenly had all the time in the world, and they became friends. No longer was Buffy struggling to be a guardian—she instead focused on being a sister; she worked to be Dawn's confidant, her listening ear, and her mentor.

It was after Dawn and Jeffery started watching Giles' house when he was away that Buffy began spending more time in England, and it was after Dawn moved in with Jeffery that Buffy sold her apartment in Rome—a place she loved—and sent all of her stuff to Giles' house. Buffy knew that she would follow Dawn to the end of the earth, and with every passing year, that feeling was more pronounced. Buffy didn't want to live a life away from her. After her years of relative independence in Rome, Buffy realized that she didn't want to live away from any of them. She longed for her family.

As Buffy stared into Dawn's eyes, she knew there no one she would ever love more.

The dog jumped on the bed and disrupted the carefully sorted lipsticks.

"Oh no," Willow said, "We got lipstick on the bedspread."

Buffy smiled. "You better hope Giles doesn't see that."

She tried to rub it off. "You know he will." She tried once more. "I'll get it later—preferably before he goes to bed tonight."

They could hear the chattering of the guests in the back garden.

Buffy looked to Willow. "I think it's about time."

"Right. I'll be back," Willow said. "I'll make sure the boys are on track."

"Dawn," Buffy said once they were alone, "she's right, you are beautiful."

"Thanks." Dawn took her hands. "And thank you for doing this for me. It was a lot of work."

"Yes it was. And I have an ulcer."

Buffy hugged her. Dawn was warm and soft. Her hair smelled like the lavender shampoo she always used. She pressed her cheek against her sister's and was overwhelmingly grateful she couldn't remember a time without her. "Dawn, I'd do anything for you."

"I know. You proved that a long time ago."

"Okay." Buffy let go of her. "Spin around. Let me have a look."

Dawn spun and the skirt of her dress splayed away from her. "I wish mom were here," she said when she stopped spinning.

"I know. I've been thinking a lot about her lately. She'd be so proud of you."

"I've felt her, Buffy. I think she's with us."

"Always." Buffy wiped away a stray tear. "I see her in you."

"I wish we had something of hers." Dawn shrugged. "Everything was lost."

Buffy took a deep breath. "I know. Luckily, Dad says he still has a bunch of photo albums that he kept after the divorce. I asked him to bring copies of some pictures."

Dawn smiled weakly. "Do you think Dad will show?"

"He said he'd be here. When you talked to him, did he say when he'd get in?"

"No."

There was a tentative knock on the door, and the dog's ears perked up. Willow's voice rang through: "I have some guests."

"Come in," Dawn said.

Willow led Giles and Xander in the room. Giles was in a light tweed suit reminiscent of his watcher clothes, and Xander wore what he called "a navy blue suit without the jacket or tie." They all gushed over each other and over Dawn before a quiet fell over them.

"This is such a joyous day." Giles sighed. "I'm quiet emotional, actually."

Willow squeezed Giles' hand.

"What Giles is trying to say," Xander said, "is that we have gifts. And it's kind of a theme. So…"

They all looked at each other.

"I'll go first." Willow stepped forward and exhaled. "Dawn…Oh, I'm nervous. Okay." She sighed. "Tara wrote me a note one morning, back when we were living at your house. She left it by my side of the bed. She used to do that—leave me notes." Willow paused and unfolded the paper. "She wrote: 'Willow, I'm taking Dawn to school. I missed you so much during our time apart, but I didn't realize how much I missed everyone else. The simple act of packing Dawn's lunch this morning while listening to her talk about inventing a new kind of sandwich has filled me with so much joy. This is the family I always wanted. I love you, and I'll be home soon.'"

She folded the paper delicately along the well worn creases. "This is one of the only things I have left of her. She wrote it a day before she…before she died." Willow held the letter out for Dawn. "I loved the way Tara cared about you. She was always kind and understanding. Her heart captivated me. Dawn, this letter is my gift to you. It may not be much, but she wrote it. She touched this paper to write about love and about you. I can't tell you how many times I've read it. I put it in my pocket before we went to fight The First—I knew I couldn't do what I needed to do without her. Dawn, she loved you so much and I know she's watching over you."

Dawn took the paper. "Willow, she wrote this for you."

Willow nodded. "She was the love of my life. I'd be so happy to know that you have this part of her—her words and her flowy handwriting."

Dawn traced her thumb over the paper before giving Dawn a hug. "I loved her."

Xander bounced on the balls of his feet. "Can I go next?"

Dawn smiled.

He held a picture fame in his hands. "As you know Anya loved money. She loved the magic shop, too. It made her feel useful and it made her feel like she was part of the gang. On her first day of work—when she was closing up for the day—I took this picture of her next to the cash register."

He held up the framed picture for everyone to see. It was of Anya smiling with money in her hands the colorful shop all around her.

"I forgot about this picture. I never had the film developed. But luckily, my parents were one of the first to evacuate Sunnydale so they got all of their stuff out. My mom, had the camera, I guess, and she had the film developed a few years ago." He looked at the photo and smiled. "My mom mailed it to me. Doesn't Anya look happy?"

They all nodded.

"It's the only picture I have of her," Xander continued. "There are times when I think about her and for a moment, I can't really remember what she looks like. It's just a moment, but it's terrifying. This picture has helped me remember the little things about her. The things that for so long were part of me."

He hugged Dawn and handed her the framed photo. "I want you to hold on to her, Dawn. I can't tell you how happy she would be for you. She would insult Jeffery's family and complain about having to help clean up later, but she would be here for you. And she would happily enact some serious vengeance on Jeffery if he ever hurt you."

Dawn smiled. "Yes she would."

"I love you, Dawn," Xander said, and then he wiped away tears. "Giles, it's your turn."

Giles patted Xander on the back. "Yes, I suppose so."

Buffy looked from Willow to Xander. She was already on the verge of sobbing and this seemed, suddenly, like a very inappropriate time to bring about the past. She wanted to ask what they were all thinking when they planned this.

Giles lowered his eyes and began. "Jenny was my once in a lifetime—it truly was love at first sight—something I never believed in before her. Even though you really didn't get to know her, I so wanted to give you something of Jenny's." He paused. "And I looked—but sadly I don't have anything of hers. I don't even have a photo." He looked Dawn in the eye. "She was my perfect opposite, as Jeffery is yours."

She nodded.

"But," Giles said, "I'd be remiss if I let this moment go by without giving you a gift." He took a breath. "Jenny wasn't my only love." He held up the vinyl record he had been holding.

They all waited.

"Your mother and I listened to this record one night. She looked through my collection and picked this. It's Cream—maybe you've heard of them." He handed it to her. "After her surgery, we listened to it again, several times."

Dawn slipped the record out of the sleeve.

"I cared about your mother deeply." He shifted his weight. "We had a connection."

Buffy felt a wave of confusion.

"I know she's here, looking out for you. She'd be so proud of the woman you've become—just as I am."

"Giles?" Dawn asked. "You loved her?"

He nodded. "In my own way, yes."

Buffy couldn't remember her mother listening to it, but she knew she had heard Giles play it several times since living at Fort Giles.

He looked to Dawn. "Every time I hear 'Tales of Brave Ulysses,' I think of your mum. Sometimes I put it on when I feel most alone. It brings me insurmountable joy. It reminds me of simpler times."

They were all quiet. Willow and Xander watched as Buffy and Dawn stared at the record.

"I don't have a record player," Dawn said.

"I know," Giles said warmly. "I have an extra in the living room for you."

Dawn hugged Giles. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

"Ah, Buffy." Willow nudged her. "It's your turn."

Dawn pulled away from Giles and smiled at Buffy.

Buffy opened the top dresser drawer and retrieved a box. It was black and had seen better days. She expected Dawn to recognize it. This gift really didn't need an explanation. She opened the box to show Dawn and everyone that indeed inside was the silver cross.

It was the cross Angel had given to her on that dark Sunnydale night. They all knew the story—she had retold it to Dawn many times. It was scratched and a little tarnished, but all things considered, it was in fairly good shape.

"You know Angel was the one for me, and he was dead before I met him."

They all laughed softly—morbid jokes were their forte.

"He was my Tara and Jenny and Anya. He gave me this to protect me, and it has. I used to secretly keep it with me when the fights were big ones."

Dawn smiled. "Except for the one that destroyed Sunnydale."

Buffy nodded and looked to the others. "Before we went to the school to fight The First, I made Dawn take the cross."

"I had it with me." Dawn nodded. " We argued about it, I think. I told her to keep it and she wanted me to have it. Good times."

Willow lifted her brows. "Good times?"

"I like to be positive," Dawn said. "I gave it back to her in that desert motel we stayed at that night—and we had a fight about that too. I told her she needed it and she said I should have it just in case. I won that argument."

Buffy continued. "I wanted it to protect you, Dawn, and I still want it to protect you. I want it to protect you and your love."

Dawn picked it up out of the box and proceeded to put it on.

"Oh, Dawn," Buffy said, "you don't have to wear it—it's massive and it doesn't go with anything."

"Oh, thank god." Dawn put it back in the box.

"I just want you to have it. It's the only thing I kept of his. It means a lot to me. Like Giles said, it reminds me of simpler times."

Dawn looked at the four of them and said softly, "I don't understand. Don't you want to keep these things? They're from the people you loved—and lost. I don't want to take that from you."

Xander smiled. "Dawn, we want you to have a part of the people we loved because…because we loved them, and we don't want them to be forgotten."

"They were our strength," Willow said. "They made us strong—they still make us strong."

"And," Giles said, "they are always with us. Now they're with you, too."

Dawn took a deep breath. "I don't know what to say."

Buffy sighed. "When we were trying to think of what to get you, we ended up talking about Tara and Angel and Anya and Jenny and Mom for hours." Buffy looked to the others. "It was wonderful. We were laughing and happy. We were so lucky to know them. Their love still brings us joy—despite the pain of losing them. And we just wanted you to know that we love you, and they do, too."

She set her gifts on the bed: A note, a photo, an album, and a cross.

"Dawn," Giles said, "Jeffery is a fine man."

"And don't worry," Xander smiled, "a few minutes ago Giles and I told him we'd kill him if he hurt you, just as Anya would."

Dawn wiped her eyes. "You guys are the best."

Xander shrugged and Giles smiled.

Willow said, "Is there anything else you need Dawnie? Xander and I need a head start to the ceremony."

"Yeah, Xander," Buffy said, "shouldn't you be giving Jeffery a best man pep talk right now?"

"Ah, he's fine. I told him to hang out in the kitchen and eat those little finger foods while he waits."

Dawn held out her arms. "I want a big group hug. That's what I need right now."

They all huddled in and wrapped their arms around her and around each other. Buffy closed her eyes and tried to memorize this moment. She tried not to think of the losses they had suffered or the pain they had put each other through—she tried to remember why they all continued to come back to each other time and again.

"I love you all," Dawn said. "Now let's get me hitched."


	2. Three Friends

**Ten Years Later**

**THREE FRIENDS**

Willow and Xander left first to find Jeffery, and Buffy and Giles waited in the large master bedroom with Dawn. Skip, the dog, was still on the bed. It was Giles' room and was furnished—as most of the house was—with things that had been left after his aunt's death. For some time, it was the only room in the house Buffy had not painted, but after much jeering from Xander, Giles eventually tore out the faded floral wallpaper and painted the walls a light tan.

During her redecoration of the house, Buffy had found several dozen photo albums. Neatly organized and spanning nearly a hundred years, she spent weeks looking through the mostly black and white images of people not even Giles could remember. When there were names or dates written on the back, Giles would do his best to tell her who they were or what part of the family they might be from, but most photos were without markings.

She would sit on the living room floor with Skip and imagine stories about the people in the photos—what their lives were like, what they did for a living, how many kids they had, and who their friends were. All of them, she imagined had lives that were simple—she wanted to believe that there were people who had simple lives. She plucked a few of her favorites from the albums and put them in frames. Some were placed on the walls and others were on top of mantels. When she told Giles the old photos were better than art, he handed over boxes of photos from his parents.

Most of his parents' pictures were from times and people he remembered—many were of him. After a little nudging, Buffy got him to join her on the living room floor to talk her through each photo. He'd lie on his back and examine pictures of a younger him until a memory would spark. He shared stories of his childhood antics, fears, and joys. She listened and asked questions, eager for more history.

Ten years ago, she didn't care about anything outside of her own little world; it seemed pointless and trite. But as she got older, she developed a burning desire to connect with her extended family. Between her new duties as _a_ Slayer, she spent time visiting family she never really knew on her mother's side and tracked down an aunt from her father's side. On her visits, she'd ask for stories about her parents—and her mother in particular. She wanted the comfort of her family. It was something that seemed to slip further away with every passing year.

Sitting on the living room floor with Giles—looking through pictures and learning about his life and family—filled a void. It connected her to a family she never realized she was part of. The Watcher who raised her was a product of the family who raised him, and in there somewhere she felt she belonged. She asked to meet some of his family, but with the exception of a few of his cousins, he didn't have much family left either.

After careful debate, two pictures of Giles as a child were framed despite his protests. Most of the oldest black and whites ended up in the front entry, but a few she put in Giles' room.

As they waited to start the ceremony, Buffy walked around the room staring at the familiar pictures—the pictures of his family, the pictures she felt strangely connected to. One photo was glaringly modern, however. It was a picture of all of them on vacation in Ireland.

Of course, they didn't take vacations; it was more of a business call to a small coastal town being terrorized by two small time vampires. In the picture, they are all standing on one of those imposing Irish cliffs that overlooked the ocean. The sky is orange and red with the setting sun as Xander, Willow, Buffy, and Dawn are standing together near the edge, looking out over the water. Their silhouettes are black against the colors of the sky. Off to the side and in the foreground, Giles is not looking toward the water, he is watching them.

Jeffery took this picture. And for Christmas he had it blown up and framed for Giles. Always the Watcher.

Buffy moved from the photo to the window and saw the guests milling about in the garden below. Most of the people were from Jeffery's family. The Summer's girls did, however, invite their mother's sister and her adult children. They arrived a few days ago and were staying at Fort Giles. For all of them, Buffy had to pay for the plane tickets in order for them to come. Of course, this meant Giles had to pay for most of it.

"Willow is getting everyone to take their seats," Buffy said. "Just a few more minutes."

Dawn took a deep breath and stood next to her, taking her hand. Buffy was shocked by Dawn's calm. Buffy felt like she could burst with energy, emotion, happiness, and sadness. Dawn, however, was more clam than usual. Buffy wondered if this was what love was for some people: calm, confident, and quiet. Was this how love should be? It seemed Buffy's experiences with love were exactly the opposite. As the sun came through the window and across Dawn's face, Buffy felt a rush of admiration for her. Buffy silently wished that she was more like Dawn.

They pointed out people they recognized and Dawn tried to figure out who was who of Jeffery's extended family. Giles remained on the other side of the room in his big arm chair—just listening to the sisters chat.

"Is that Dad?" Dawn pointed down to the guests.

Buffy squinted. "Where?"

"In the back, near the end."

"I can't tell. It would help if I could see more than the back of his head."

"Oh, wait." Dawn pointed to another man. "Maybe that's him."

"I think Dad was taller than that guy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but it's hard to tell from up here."

Dawn squinted. "You're right, that's not him."

They scanned the crowd again.

Buffy squeezed her hand. "I'm sure Dad's here, Dawn."

Dawn nodded and turned around. Giles' glasses were off, his eyes were closed, and he squeezed the bridge of nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Yeah," Dawn said, "Dad is here."

Buffy followed her gaze. "He's always been here."

Dawn smiled. "Giles, are you crying?"

He stood up and coughed a little. "No…well, not exactly." He gazed at the two of them for a moment. "Forgive me; this is far more emotional than I'd expected." He put his hands in his pockets. "I'm feeling rather nostalgic."

"I think we all are."

Buffy and Dawn slipped on their shoes, and Giles followed them to the hallway, down the stairs, and into the living room—Skip came along dutifully. Through the windows in the French doors, they could see outside to the guests.

"Just think how messed up you'll be when you have to give Buffy away," Dawn said.

"I am not giving anyone away," Giles insisted. "I'm walking you down the aisle—no one is going away."

Buffy fixed Dawn's dress and handed her the bouquet. "Yeah, I don't like that term 'giving away.' It's so old and creepy."

"Thank you," Giles said. "It's ridiculous, patriarchal, and archaic—and no one's leaving, ever—we're all staying." He softened his voice. "Dawn, flattered as I am, there is still time to have Buffy walk you down the aisle."

Buffy touched up Dawn's makeup.

"We've been over this, Giles," Dawn said. "Your job is to make sure I don't trip. She's my best woman."

"Of course."

Buffy reached up and fixed Giles' tie. "Giles, go like this with your hair." She made a sweeping motion over her own head. "No, the other side."

"Better?" he asked.

"I guess."

"Not the answer I was looking for."

Dawn tugged at his jacket sleeve. "You look great. Buffy, stop fussing."

Buffy tilted her head as she studied Giles. "When did you get so gray? There's like no color left."

"I'm extremely old and nearly dead."

She patted him on the shoulder. "At least you're not bald. Yet."

Dawn squinted up at him. "But that hairline is inching back. He may not have hair for much longer."

He sighed. "Would you please…"

"I don't know." Buffy pushed some hair off his forehead. "I thought he'd be bald by now. Maybe he'll be okay."

Dawn nodded and pulled at some of his hair. "He's lucky. You can fix the gray. Bald, not so much."

"I can hear you," he said.

Buffy's face brightened. "Maybe we still have time for some Just for Men—give him a hint of color."

He took a step back and held his hands out in front of him. "Would you two leave me alone?"

"It could bring back that rugged handsomeness."

Dawn burst into laughter, and the sound made all of Buffy's stress melt away. For a moment Buffy was mesmerized by the sound of Dawn's voice.

Dawn inched toward Giles and Buffy followed.

"Come on, Giles." Dawn said. "Let us fix your hair."

A smiled stretched across his face as he continued to step backward. "You have to get married now. There's no time for this silliness."

They backed him into a corner and they all froze. He took off his glasses and laughter ruptured from him. Buffy and Dawn followed in his uncontrollable, doubled over state.

"Dawn," he said between fits, "it's time to get married. I've spent a lot of money on this day."

It was difficult, but they controlled themselves and gathered their composure.

"Giles." Buffy reached for his hair. "Your hair is really messed up now."

He jerked his head back. "Don't touch me."

"Buffy's right," Dawn said.

He went to a mirror and fixed his hair. "Hate to break it to you, but this is as good as it gets."

"A hint of color," Dawn said to Buffy. "When we get back from the honeymoon, let's take him to get his hair colored."

"No," he said as they walked to the back door.

"Men do that kind of thing now."

"No."

The three of them left the house and stood on the back porch. Suddenly all the guests turned around and stood. Willow, Xander and Jeffery waited front and center—her family and the new addition.

"Okay," Buffy said, "I guess that's my cue."

Music from a string quartet began and Buffy walked slowly down the aisle of guests, smiling and looking for her father. She wasn't sure if she saw him—the man in the back could be him.

When she reached the front, Xander winked at her and smiled. Buffy smiled back at him. Big brother always knew just what to do to make her feel better—he always knew what she was feeling.

Buffy turned around and watched Dawn take Giles' arm and make their regal march to the front. What she will always remember is how happy Dawn looked—her smile was as honest as she's ever seen.

It seemed to Buffy like everything was in slow motion. It seemed like everything happened too fast. It took forever for Dawn and Giles to reach the destination, but Buffy wasn't ready. When Giles kissed Dawn on the cheek before taking his seat, all Buffy wanted to do was go back to a time before she was a slayer, when the world was small and they were young.

The ceremony itself was fast and to the point. Willow didn't stumble over her words, but she did tear up often. Then pictures were taken. There was no professional photographer, just a cousin of Jeffery's who had a nice camera. As the photos snapped, Buffy wondered if these would someday end up on the walls of distant relatives who couldn't name them. Would they look at her and know that her life was chosen? Would they look at Xander, Willow, and Giles and know that they risked their lives not because it was their destiny, but because they were devoted friends. Would they look at Dawn and imagine that her life did not start like any other?

As they stood with the bride and groom for yet another photograph, Buffy whispered to Giles: "We need to make sure all of these pictures are labeled really well."

He nodded and grinned: "We'll do it while they're on holiday."

His smile, Buffy noticed, was all in his eyes. He beamed in every photograph, joked with Jeffery and chatted happily with Jeffery's parents. He was, for the first time in weeks—maybe even years—confident, happy, and content.

"Do you think we should we ask Giles about our plan today? He's in a rather good mood," Willow said.

Buffy watched him talk with Xander. "Sure. He'll be fine with it."

"Well yeah, I guess. I just don't want ruin his good mood."

Buffy said, "he's so happy that everyone is accepting him as—" Buffy paused "—as a member of the family. He gets to be in the family pictures; he gets to be the dad."

Willow brushed away a tear and looped her arm through Buffy's. "That's all he's ever wanted."

Buffy nudged Willow. "You have done nothing but cry today."

"I can't help it. I don't have your slayer strength."

When the pictures were taken, Willow, Xander and Buffy packed their plates with food and sat a one of the many picnic tables.

"My god, I'm hungry," Willow said. "I don't think I've eaten in like three days—there's been so much to do."

"And," Xander said, "I'm sure marring people works up quite an appetite."

"You're not kidding, boy. All that responsibility is taxing."

"Crying is taxing, too."

"You done good, Willow," Buffy said.

"And you, Buffy." Willow pointed at her with a fork. "You didn't trip walking down the aisle—not even a little."

"I'm the slayer."

Xander smiled. "What about me? I stood there for a really long time. Then I patted Jeff on the back."

Willow nodded. "Your standing was unlike anything I've ever seen."

He shrugged. "I learned that from the slayer."

"You're a pro. Really." Buffy smiled.

"So," Willow leaned forward and whispered to Buffy, "did your dad show?"

Buffy glanced around her. "I don't think so. I figured he'd call when he got to town, we haven't heard from him."

"I was looking for him," Xander said, "but then I remembered I don't know what he looks like."

"I haven't seen him. Well, I saw one guy that might be him, but it was from upstairs, looking out the window." Buffy said, "There are way more people here than I thought we invited, so maybe I just missed him."

"I'm sure he's here," Willow said. "And I'd like to meet him."

"Maybe my aunt has seen him today." Buffy looked around. "I'll go ask her later."

"She looks so much like your mom—your aunt does."

"I know. When I picked her and her sons up at the airport, I felt like I was looking at Mom."

Willow patted Buffy on the top of the hand. "I'm glad they came."

"Me too. I try to stay in contact with them." Buffy paused. "I've been thinking about moving closer to them." Buffy waited for a reaction.

Xander looked up. "Back to the States? Permanently?"

"Nothing is permanent anymore. Just a thought."

Willow's eyes go wide. "Well, what would you do out there, away from us?"

"I could help train slayers over there. I can move anywhere in the world and have a job."

Xander lifted his eyebrows. "True, I guess."

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe I'll just visit them more."

"Yes," Willow said. "You should visit them more. Visiting them is a good idea. You should visit family as much as possible—then come back."

"Don't worry Willow, it was just an idea."

"Well, I don't want to keep you from your family, but we only just starting getting things back to the way things used to be—when we all lived in the same country."

Buffy nodded. "Have you talked to your parents lately, Will?"

Willow pressed her lips together and squinted a little. "Mmm. I haven't heard from my dad in a long time, but I called my mom on her birthday."

"How is she?"

"Fine. She was on a tour lecturing. She liked it."

"Does she still think you're in England to study at Oxford?"

"She knows I'm not in school. She just chooses to ignore that fact. Every time I talk to her she asks about Oxford."

Buffy looked to Willow warily. "How about we go visit her some time?"

"You want to visit my mom?"

"Well, I want you to visit her. I don't mind seeing her. I don't think I'll mind her trying to psychoanalyze me anymore."

"She's a handful."

"I know, but you need to keep in touch with her."

"I miss her sometimes," Willow said, "but then when I'm around her or talk to her on the phone, I don't know what to say."

"Everything is awkward?"

"Yep."

"I know what you mean—I get the same feeling with my dad."

Willow set her drink down. "I hate that feeling. It doesn't make sense either—they're our parents—shouldn't we be the most comfortable around them?"

"I don't even try to understand it, but we should still try to stay in touch, right? That's what adults do."

Willow thought about this. "I'll go see her sometime. You have to come with."

"Xander?" Buffy asked, "Have you heard from your parents?"

He smiled. "Nope. Oh, but I do send them a card every Christmas. Just so they know I'm still alive."

"I know you don't like them," Buffy said, "but don't you miss seeing them? I mean, at least your mom?"

"Yeah, I miss my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes."

Buffy played with her food. "Talk to her sometime."

"I know. It's hard with my dad. I always used to think that I would like her a whole lot better if she would just divorce my dad. I even asked her to leave him when I was twelve."

"I remember," Willow said. "I helped you come up with your speech."

"It was a good speech, too." Xander nodded. "Willow even made a pie chart with the benefits of divorce, but my mom just started crying when I showed it to her." He continued to eat. "I know I should call her, but it's hard. I'm out of dealing-with-parents practice."

Willow sighed. "You can't choose your family."

"Well," Xander said, "we're like a family. Basically. We picked each other."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean."

"I guess."

They ate silently for a moment. Buffy marveled at Willow. She had not aged much at all since they were kids. In fact, she thought that Willow just got more beautiful with each passing year. Her bright red hair flowed easily around her face and her smiled was always bright and warm. Xander on the other hand had aged quite a bit. He had lost all of his baby fat in the last ten years. Teaching new slayers how to fight had slimmed his body and built his muscle, but his face had hardened and his hair was getting that salt and pepper coloring. He still sported the eye patch.

Willow looked over to Dawn who was eating with Jeffery. "Who would have thought that little ball of energy Dawnie would be the first Summers girl to get married?"

Buffy shrugged. "I knew."

They all nodded.

"So Buff," Xander said, "as best man and best woman, there is one last thing we have to do for the bride and groom."

"What? A toast?"

"No. Silly. We have to have the sex."

Buffy stared at him.

"You and me, Buff. We need to have sex together—tonight."

She stared at him.

He lifted his eyebrows.

Buffy laughed. "Sure. Just as soon as I finish eating."

Xander nodded and said nothing for a moment. "You are joking, right?"

"Yes, joking. Not going to sleep with you."

"It is tradition. You have to honor the traditions of our ancestors."

"Not mine."

Xander nodded sympathetically. "I just want you to know that the ancient Americans—also known as the Indians—they believed if the sex was not had by the best man and woman, that the bride and groom would be doomed to a life of crops that don't grow."

"Luckily, Dawn and Jeffery don't grow things. They buy their food at a store."

"You misunderstand. By crops I mean kids. They will not be able to have kids."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "They can adopt, or get a cat."

"You misunderstand again: they will not be able to provide the nutrients for the kids that will allow them to grow."

"What?"

"Stunted growth, Buffy. Do you want nieces and nephews who are three feet tall—forever?"

"I am sure their kids will grow."

"But," Xander said solemnly, "If they don't, it will be all your fault."

"I will love them anyway."

Willow chimed in. "But Buffy, what will happen if these tiny kids come to you and say, 'Aunt Buffy, why are we not growing like the rest of our friends? What did we do to deserve this horrible, terrible, miserable fate?'"

"I will tell them that I'll beat up anyone who makes fun of them."

Willow shook her head. "You can't fight Dawn's kid's battles for them."

"I fight everyone else's battles for them. It's my calling."

Xander looked to Willow and they shared a disapproving look.

"What?" Buffy said, "don't do that. It's true; I fight all the battles—why can't I fight their battles too?"

Xander said softly. "They will never grow up if you do."

They all paused.

"Wait," Willow said, "what do you mean 'grow up'? I thought they couldn't grow."

"Oh, right. I don't mean physically—they're already stunted. I mean emotionally."

"Ahh." Willow nodded. "Got it. Continue."

"Well what I was saying was that—"

Buffy put a hand in the air. "What are we talking about, again?"

Willow squinted. "Dawn's kids are doomed to be very short."

"And I want to fight people who pick on them?"

"The sex," Xander said.

Willow and Buffy glanced at each other.

Xander inhaled and exhaled forcefully. "Never mind. I'm going to get more food."

Willow and Buffy put in their order.

"So, Buffy," Willow sat closer to her, "what happened to that Italian guy you were seeing?"

"Oh, Bruno?"

"Yeah. That tall, dark, muscular man."

"I don't know. I went out with him a few times. He's nice and funny. But I think he's mostly funny because his English isn't very good."

"And?"

"I don't know." Buffy played with her napkin.

"And…"

"Same old Buffy story."

Willow watched Buffy tear her napkin in half.

"When I talked to you after the first date, you seemed really into him."

She tore the napkin into smaller pieces.

"Buffy, you just haven't found the right person."

"I did find the right person once."

Willow sighed. "I know; we all did. Wasn't that the point of the gifts?"

Buffy shrugged. "I feel stuck. If that makes any sense."

"Yes, it does. You've been through so much. You still have so much responsibility."

Buffy began balling the small napkin pieces up. "There's nothing wrong with Bruno, but I don't have any desire to see him again. I don't think I've thought about him once since I snuck him out of the house a few weeks ago."

"You did what?"

Buffy smiled. "I didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Ha!" Buffy's mood lifted. "Funny and sad story: I invited him back to the house for…you know. It was great, by the way. Like, really good. But then, after, I just felt strange. I didn't want him to sleep in my bed all night. The thought of him breathing next to me was horrible. So I told him that my dad was coming home soon and he had to leave. There was more to it; I had an elaborate story about my father having a debilitating phobia about germs and I didn't want him to have a literal stroke. But, I made him leave through the back service road that goes to the barn. It was raining."

"Wow, Buffy."

"I know."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"It's okay." Willow took the destroyed napkin from Buffy. "I'm not doing well in the relationship department either. So we can just share our stories without judgment."

Buffy leaned forward. "What's your latest relationship story?"

Willow squinted. "Well, I don't have one. That's my story."

Buffy narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry, Buffy. I haven't been on a date in a while."

"Well that's no fun. I demand that you go on a terrible date so that I get a terrible story."

"Okay."

Xander came back with a plate full of food. "Got the grub."

They dug in.

"So have you two talked to Giles yet?" Buffy asked.

"We're waiting for the right time—catch him in a good mood."

"You're wasting time. He's going to say yes. He'll act like he's terribly troubled by this, but he'll say yes."

"I hope so."

"Yeah," Xander looked to Willow, "we'll talk to him today."

"How about now?"

"Not now. I don't think he'll want us interrupting that," Xander said. "Do you see that woman talking Giles up?"

Buffy and Willow shook their heads.

"Yeah, look over there."

They all leaned and watched Giles—all smiles—indulge in the attention of a tall, dark haired woman.

"He looks happy about it," Willow said. "Good for him."

Xander examined the woman. "She's kinda hot."

"He needs someone in his life."

"Oh," Xander said, "I don't think this is anything long term. My guess is that he'll have her upstairs soon."

Buffy and Willow both groaned.

"Really, Xander?" Buffy said. "We're eating."

"I can't help but be a little envious, okay. He's going to have sex tonight. He's not the best man. I am. He's the father of the bride—he shouldn't get lucky. I should get the sex."

"I'm not sleeping with you, Xander," Buffy said.

"The least you can do is be my wingman and get me a nice woman—any woman."

"Giles doesn't need a wingman."

Xander stuffed food in his mouth. "I hate my life."

Buffy surveyed the guests. "Over there, Xander. In the pinkish dress."

"I don't know, Buffy," Willow said. "I think that is more of a coral color."

"What? No. It's pink. Just a different kinda pink. British pink."

"British Pink?"

Xander studied the woman. "I don't care what color it is. Who is she?"

"I think," Buffy said, "that's Jeffery's cousin."

"Hmm." Xander ate a chocolate covered strawberry. "She's too good looking."

"What?"

Willow nodded. "Xander's right, we need someone less outwardly beautiful."

Xander nodded. "She'd never go for me."

"What about that woman?" Buffy pointed to a forty-something who seemed to be on her own. "She's older than you, if that's fine with you."

"I like older," Xander said. "Who is she?"

"I have no idea."

"I will do some asking around and see who she is," Xander said. "Willow's turn. Let's find someone for her."

They all looked for a moment.

Buffy grinned. "How about the woman in the coral dress?"

"It's pink. And why do I get Xander's leftovers?"

Buffy looked at the woman. "Forgive me for thinking that she's hot and worthy of a night with one of my friends. I mean look at her."

They all leered.

"She is sexy," Xander said, "maybe I should reconsider."

"You had your chance."

"Sorry."

"I don't know." Willow tipped her head. "She's not that sexy."

"God, if you two don't want her," Buffy said, "I'm desperate enough."

Willow shook her head. "She's not even gay."

"Neither am I. Honestly," Buffy said, "I can't tell who might be _your type_. I don't know how you can tell."

Willow smiled. "Magic."

Buffy stood. "Maybe a drink will help."

She walked over to the makeshift bar—which was really just a table loaded with the massive amount of alcohol the groom's father had purchased—and surveyed her options. As she filled her glass, there was a tap on her shoulder. When she turned around, there was a moment of blankness before she recognized him.

As it turned out, Hank Summers had come.


	3. Two Fathers

**Ten Years Later**

**TWO FATHERS**

Her father was older and heavier, but the longer she looked the more she saw the man she remembered from when she was young. And yet, despite looking for him from the second floor windows and during the ceremony, she had not seen him. Maybe she saw him and just didn't recognize him. But he showed. He came. Hanging by his finger tips, he was still in their lives, and Buffy let her shoulders relax.

"Dad." She held her breath and side-hugged him with her free arm. "You came."

"I sent my RSVP. I wouldn't miss my daughter's wedding."

"Right. Yeah." She paused. "Did you get something to drink?"

He held up the glass in his hand.

"Good." She held up her own drink. "Me, too."

"It's good to see you, dear."

She wanted to hug him again—a real hug this time, with both arms—but she didn't know if she should. "Oh, yeah, it's good to see you. It's been awhile."

"Too long."

She nodded.

He nodded.

She hoped maybe he would take the initiative and hug her. "Is it a long flight from Spain to England?" She thought about this. "Probably not that bad."

"What? I'm back in L.A. I told you. Remember?"

"Oh, I forgot." She didn't know he was in L.A. "I thought we sent your invitation to an address in Spain."

"My ex sent it on to me."

"Oh." Buffy said. "That's nice."

"I talked to Dawn a few weeks ago, after I got the invitation—I gave her my new address."

"That's good. I don't think we have your phone number."

"I got a new one. I'll make sure you have it."

"Good."

She looked him in the eyes as he spoke. His eyes wandered. She took a step closer to him, thinking that it would let him know that he could hug her—or maybe he would just put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yep, back in L.A. It's home," he said, one hand hold his glass and the other in his pocket. "I had my adventures, but really that's where I belong," he said. "Dawn said that she's mostly in England now."

Buffy shrugged. "Kind of. We travel a lot. Now that she's married to a British guy, I guess she'll probably stay here."

"Well then, when you get back to California, you and I should make an effort to spend more time together."

"I haven't lived there in years." She took a sip from her glass. "I don't know if I'm going back."

"Why wouldn't you?" He pointed to an empty picnic table and they sat down across from each other. "It's the Summers' home."

Across the lawn, Buffy heard Dawn and Jeffery laughing. "My family is here." She sighed and said absently, "Mom is dead."

His face dropped and he didn't move.

"Ah." Her mouth was suddenly dry and her face burned. "Have you said hi to Dawn yet? She was looking for you."

"Not yet. She's busy mingling. I'll wait until they're free; I want the groom to introduce me to his parents." He looked around. "Why the rush to get married? It's a miracle I got any time off with such short notice." He leaned forward and whispered, "Is she pregnant?"

"No."

He took a drink.

Buffy took a drink.

She looked over his shoulder to Willow and Xander. Willow made a few large gestures and Buffy nodded shallowly. Xander mimed that he shot himself in the head.

"When did you get in, Dad?"

"Yesterday morning. I'm leaving tomorrow, though. Got a big meeting next week. I wish I could stay and sightsee, but, you know, I have obligations."

"You should've called. You could've stayed here. There's lots of room."

"Oh, that's sweet, thanks. But I don't want to be a burden. My hotel is nice. Where are you staying, Buffy?"

Buffy lifted her eyebrows. "Here."

"Oh." He took another drink. "Really?"

"I live here when I'm in England. It's peaceful. All of my stuff's here."

"It's good of Jeffery and Dawn to let you stay here, but you really need to let them have their space now."

"What? Dad, this isn't their place. They lived here before they got their apartment, but—"

"Oh? So this is your house?"

She sputtered a little before saying, "I guess. I live here."

He lifted his eyebrow. "It's beautiful. How can you afford this? Where are you working?"

"I work for a private security firm."

That is what they told people.

"Oh. That's good, Buffy. What do you do there?"

She thought about it, but decided to go with her usual answer. "I answer phones."

"Hmm." He nodded and looked around. "Beautiful weather today—which is unusual for England—it rains all the time."

Buffy shrugged. "It doesn't rain that much around here. Or maybe I just don't notice it anymore."

"I hate the rain," he said staring off. "Anyway, I've got this fantastic opportunity to really make some great money with this next account. You'd be proud of your dad. Hard work really pays off—" His voice was level and calm, just the way Buffy remembered it. She used to think his voice was the most soothing sound in the world—full of comfort, understanding and protection—but now she wasn't so sure.

Giles, with a plate of food, sat next to Buffy at the picnic table. He startled her. She wished he hadn't sat down.

He was still in the best mood Buffy had ever seen him in—there was even a spring in his step. "Food is splendid, Buffy, fine choice." He looked up to Hank and extended his hand across the table. "Hello, I'm Rupert—father of the bride. I don't believe we've met. Are you one of Jeffery's family?"

"No. I'm Hank—father of the bride."

Giles froze. "Yes, of course, Hank Summers. I'm happy you could make it."

Hank shook his hand.

Giles smiled and said tentatively, "I know Dawn was thrilled when she heard you'd be available."

Buffy wanted to run away. But she couldn't run; it was her destiny not to run away in the face of fear.

In her early days of Sunnydale, she would have loved for Giles and her father to sit down and talk. She imagined they would talked about her, surely, swapping stories about her accomplishments, sense of humor, and general greatness. That was her dream, but now it seemed the most unappealing thing she could imagine.

"Dad, I think you've met him before—a long time ago. He was the Sunnydale High librarian, Mr. Giles."

Giles nodded. "Yes, I do believe we've met once."

"The librarian?"

"I'm not a librarian anymore—unfortunately—but, yes, I suppose I'm always the librarian."

"I don't recall."

Giles put a fork full of food in his mouth.

Hank took a drink.

Buffy took a drink.

Hank set his glass on the table and watched Giles eat.

Giles kept his head down.

Buffy tried to think of something to say, but she couldn't think when all she wanted to do was run away.

"So," Hank said slowly, "you know Dawn because you were the librarian at her school?"

"Ah," Giles said, "I was the librarian at _Buffy's_ school."

Buffy and Giles glanced at each other. They had been telling people, outsiders, for years that he was the man who helped raise them—it was basically true and no one asked for details—but for Hank, that explanation wouldn't work.

Hank lifted his eyebrows. "And that gives you the right to introduce yourself as her father?"

"Dad, Giles was a—he was a mentor, a kind of councilor for me and my friends—and other kids, too—lots of other kids, not just us." She paused. "Oh! He helped me study for my SAT's and get into college."

"Didn't you drop out of college?" he asked.

Buffy smiled. "Yeah, he helped me with that, too."

Giles nodded. "I became a friend of the family."

Hank shook his head. "If you were a friend of the family, why am I just now hearing about you?"

Giles looked Hank in the eyes. "As Buffy said, we did meet before."

They ate and drank in silence for a few moments. Buffy's breathing picked up a bit and her eyes moistened. It had been years since she'd seen her father, and a week ago the prospect of seeing him—no matter how much pain he had caused—filled her with joy and hope. Now, however, the reality of seeing him crushed her. After so many years apart, she felt awkward and stressed around him. She also felt the crushing weight of guilt. She would never understand why she felt guilty for their strained relationship or why she felt responsible for his continued absents.

As she looked at him across the table, she wondered if he felt the same overwhelming guilt and regret. Did it eat away at him the way it ate away at her? Did he feel awkward around her? Was he just hiding it, too? She wanted to know how he felt about them, but didn't know how to ask. Could Hank see her pain?

Giles always saw her pain. It seemed Giles could look at her and feel her every emotion. In turn, she could look at Giles and know his guilt and regret. More than that, however, they could ask each other and they'd talk. It was effortless.

Her father, however, was a mystery she dared not solve. She couldn't ask the questions she wanted answered most.

Hank put his glass down and looked at Giles. "What do you do for a living, Rupert?—since you're not a librarian anymore."

"I work for a private security firm."

Buffy wanted to strangle Giles for saying that.

Hank looked to Buffy. "You work together?"

Buffy nodded shallowly. "Willow and Xander do as well. That's kind of why we're all in England."

"Willow and Xander?" Hank asked.

"Oh, they are our friends. We went to high school together."

Hank nodded. "I think I remember you talking about them."

Buffy could see her father thinking—she could almost hear it.

"Dawn says she works at a bakery?"

"Yes," Buffy said, "every now and again. It's where Jeffery works and sometimes they need help."

"She doesn't work for this private security firm?"

Buffy tipped her head. "Sometimes she does."

He looked to Giles and took a drink: "You gave my daughter away."

Giles sighed and said softly, "Yes, and it was an honor. But I didn't give her away, I just walked her down the aisle."

Buffy finished her drink and collected all the courage she had. "Dad, Giles is family. Dawn and I are thankful for him."

Hank tipped his head said softly. "He's not family. Buffy, honey, I know you're upset with me. Believe me, you've made that clear, but—"

She covered his hand with hers. "No, Dad, I'm not upset. Not today."

Giles stood. "Excuse me. I'm going to get a drink."

When Giles left, Buffy said, "please, let's talk about this some other time."

His voice was soft and sad. "Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? How painful this is?"

She felt the guilt thicken in her stomach. "I'm sorry."

"You both knew I was going to come. You didn't think about how this would make me feel."

"It wasn't about you. It was about what Dawn—and I thought was best."

"To have some stranger give her away?"

"He's not a stranger. Dad, Giles taught me to trust myself. He listened and gave advice." She let go of his hand. "When I found Mom dead, he was the one I called. He went to the hospital with her, and signed papers, and helped plan the funeral. I mean, for months after, he'd come over to cook dinner for us so we wouldn't be so alone. We were _so_ alone."

"I wanted to be there," he said softly, "but you have to understand that I was dealing with my own problems at the time. I didn't want to burden you."

"You _did_ burden us."

"It wasn't easy for me, Buffy. Sometimes men have to make the difficult choices. Sometimes being man is about sacrifice. Life is not easy. Maybe you'll understand when you have the responsibilities of a family."

"Responsibilities of a family? Difficult choices and sacrifice…" she repeated. She loved him, but she didn't like him. "I'd like to know what your difficulties were, Dad. We can swap war stories."

He fidgeted with his glass and said almost kindly: "Honey, there's a lot you don't know about me—about the things I've had to deal with."

"Did you spend the best years of your life fighting evil and vampires? Dying?"

"Buffy, I'm trying to have an honest conversation with you." He took a drink. "You're making light of my problems."

"I'm trying to understand what your problems are."

He looked away. "My problem is that I'm hurt. It was hard for me to watch someone else give my daughter away."

"I don't want you to be hurt," she said. "I just want you to understand that Giles has been with us through the most trying times we've ever faced—and believe me, I've put him through hell. But he's never abandoned us—not really. Dawn asked him to do this because she loves him, but it doesn't mean she's forgotten about you."

"It seems like it. Neither of you ever call." He shrugged. His voice was still level and calm. "That man didn't sit up with you and your sister all night when you were sick. He didn't buy you your first bike. He didn't teach you how to tie your shoes. And yet, he gets the rewards because he's—what?—what is he?"

"A librarian."

He didn't react. He didn't move.

"I'll call you more." Buffy stared into her father's eyes. "I've never wanted to hurt you, but Giles has been at my bed side when I've been sick. And you may have bought me a bike, but Mom taught me how to ride." She felt herself get angry. "Dad, I don't want to talk about this anymore—not now—this is a happy day. I don't want to do this now."

Hank kept his eyes on the ground. "Got it." He stood. "I'll say hi to Dawn and leave."

"Dad—"

He walked away. Buffy stood to follow, but she stopped herself. She sat back down and Giles returned.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She took a scone off his plate and nibbled on it.

He rubbed a light circle between her shoulder blades.

"This is a good scone," she said.

"I'm sorry I introduced myself the way I did—I got carried away. It didn't occur to me that he was here."

"You did nothing wrong."

He picked at the food on his plate. "Let's not let this darken our day. Okay?"

"He makes me feel like crap."

Giles nodded. "If it's any consolation, I think he feels bad as well."

She pushed her lips together. "I don't want him to be hurt."

"You have a heart of gold, Buffy." He took a drink. "Would you like me to go talk to him? Maybe if I explain—"

"Thanks, but no."

When her father had said he'd come to the wedding, Buffy and Dawn discussed the ramifications of having Giles walk Dawn down the aisle. Giles had already been asked, but they wondered if it would just be easier to let their father do it. But when Dawn couldn't remember the last time her father had called her, the decision was made.

Buffy now wondered if they should've let Hank walk her down the aisle. If it meant keeping the peace and avoiding this feeling, it might have been worth it. She only hoped that he was civil with Dawn.

Giles said: "What are you think about?"

"Nothing."

He smiled. "You just looked a little—mmm" He shrugged.

"Are all fathers such disappointments?"

"I hope not."

She finished her scone. "Even when you've disappointed me, Giles, you're not a disappointment."

"I'm not your father—you don't put me on a pedestal or hold me to the same standard."

"I guess not."

Giles continued to eat. "You're not responsible for his behavior."

"I know." She stared off.

"He's the one who gave up his greatest gifts."

She said sarcastically, "Yeah, yeah, it's his loss."

"It is his loss." He was serious. "But I know it's your loss, too."

The music from the band mixed with the laughter of the guests. There was so much happiness around them, it seemed extraordinary to Buffy that she felt bad. "I used to wish that you were my father."

He inhaled sharply. "I'm flattered, truly, but I'm sure you didn't mean it."

"I did mean it, for a time. We had our moments when everything was father-daughtery. You were what I needed when I needed you most. I could tell you anything and I trusted you. I used to wish you were my father mostly so that I wouldn't feel guilty about preferring you over him." She let her shoulders slump. "I hate the guilt."

"You can still tell me anything."

"I know. I do tell you everything—basically. There's a story about Bruno, that Italian guy, that I'll tell you about later." She half-smiled.

He lifted his eyebrows.

"When I have news, or even when I just want to talk about my day, I want to tell you and Dawn and Willow and Xander. I don't even think about calling my dad anymore. It makes me sad when I really think about it."

He watched her as she watched her father approach Dawn and Jeffery. They were too far away to hear anything, but Buffy watched anyway. She could feel Giles worried eyes focused on her.

"There was a time," she said, "when I seriously thought about telling him about being the slayer. I had this fantasy that he'd get all protective and want to come stop me, and then he'd be forced to be part of our lives and worry about us."

He set his glasses on the table. "Why didn't you?"

"Because what if he didn't come to the rescue? What if he didn't care?"

Giles put a hand on her shoulder as she continued to watch her father and Dawn talk. Giles' gesture was, as always, a welcomed comfort. There was a part of her, however, that feared that her father would see this and know that he could not compete with Giles—not anymore.

She looked Giles in the eyes. "My dad is a good man; he's just a bad father."

He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I don't think a bad father can ever be considered a good man."

That sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes. The light breeze ruffled her hair and Giles's hand on her shoulder was heavy and warm.

"Buffy," he said tentatively, "I'm sorry I can't help you solve this problem or fill this void. I can't even begin to explain how hard it's been for me to know that I can play the father, but I can't be the father—not really."

She couldn't open her eyes to look at him. She felt the same pain, guilt, and regret.

"Buffy, my life didn't really begin until I met you," he said. "I've always imagined that's what it must feel like when a child is born."

With her eyes still closed, she inhaled slowly. When she finally opened her eyes, his were staring back at her—warm and kind as ever.

"Giles, you're a great man."

He smiled. "Thank you."

They ate a little and made pleasantries with people who came around to say hello. There were a few friends of Dawn's and other acquaintances, but then a woman close to Giles' age came up to the table. She was tall and beautiful. She was the woman he'd been talking with earlier—the one Xander pointed out. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Mary." He put a hand on her upper arm. "I'm sorry I didn't make my way back to you; I got distracted; I've been rather busy."

She smiled with her hands on his forearms. "It's a big day for you."

"Yes, indeed." He turned to Buffy. His eyes were bright and relaxed. "Buffy, this is my cousin Mary from Manchester—I told you she might come."

"Oh! Right."

Buffy knew of her. Giles grew up with Mary; he once said that she was his first friend. They tried to stay in touch after she married and moved to Manchester and after he moved to Sunnydale, but it was difficult.

"Mary, it's nice to meet you—finally," Buffy said.

Giles was beaming.

She laughed. "It's my pleasure, entirely. I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity—_the_ Buffy Summers."

Buffy lifted an eyebrow

Giles tipped his head. "She knows, Buffy. It's the family business."

Mary looked at Buffy. "Well, yes, you're the slayer, but I meant you're like a celebrity simply because of how much he talks about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"My gosh; when he was in Sunnydale we didn't write much, maybe once or twice a year—long letters—but it was always about you. I'd tell him about how my kids were doing in school and he'd tell me how you saved the world."

"It wasn't all success stories."

"He only mentioned your accomplishments."

She looked to Giles. "I approve."

Xander quickly walked up behind Giles and tapped him on the shoulder. "Giles, some little boy kid slipped in the kitchen and is bleeding a lot."

"Where are his parents?"

"I don't know. I don't know who he is. He's really crying and Jeffery's mom is trying to comfort him, but she's really drunk and kind of scary."

Giles stood. "Excuse me."

Xander and Giles jogged toward the house.

"I hope everything's okay," Mary said.

"Ah." Buffy flicked her hand dismissively. "Xander and Giles are no strangers to a little blood. They've stitched me up hundreds of times."

They sat there for a moment. The sun was lowering, but this time of year at this latitude, the sun wouldn't go down for hours.

"Do you want a drink?" Buffy asked.

Mary held up a glass. "I've got one, thank you."

Buffy nodded. "So, tell me an embarrassing childhood story about Giles before he gets back."

The corners of Mary's mouth lifted. "You call him Giles?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, he was the school librarian, too. Mr. Giles. It kind of stuck."

"I don't know if I should tell you anything he hasn't already shared."

"He doesn't really share anything about his past. Only recently did I find out he was a kid at one time."

"He was a child. It's true." Mary laughed. "Is there anything you want to know about him?"

"I get to pick? Man, I wish I had more time to think about this. Once in a lifetime opportunity."

"No pressure, Buffy."

Buffy studied Mary's face. She looked a lot like Giles. She had the same sharp features and warm eyes. "Did you come all the way from Manchester just for the wedding?"

"Yes, Rupert invited me. He insisted I come."

"That's a long trip to see two people you've never met get married. I'm mean the ceremony was like ten minutes at most."

"I came because he's family. He's wanted me to meet you and Dawn for years. When Dawn asked him to give her away, he was thrilled. I couldn't say no."

"I didn't know you two talked so much."

"We write mostly. He's not one for phone calls." She smiled softly at Buffy, as if looking at a newborn. "He's proud of you, Buffy. He loves you and Dawn."

"I know."

Mary straightened her posture. "So what's the question?"

"Are his letters as long as I suspect? He keeps these journals, and though I don't read them, I can only imagine how wordy he is."

"That's your question?"

"You put me on the spot. I've been drinking—don't judge."

"Yes, Buffy, he is very wordy. On the phone he doesn't say anything, but his letters are where I get all the dirt."

"Dirt?"

"By dirt I mean he suggests books. There's usually a page or two dedicated to his readings."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "How long was his shortest letter? Like fifteen pages?"

Mary thought about this. "No, the shortest letter I ever got from him was just a few lines."

"Must have been a slow time in Sunnydale. What did it say? 'I love Tweed. I need more Tweed.'"

Mary shook her head and looked away.

"What?" Buffy asked. "Maybe more like: 'Americans drive on the wrong side of the road?'"

Mary smiled sadly.

Buffy suddenly felt self-conscious. "What?"

"He always said you were luminous. I can see it."

Buffy felt like Mary was hiding something. "Is that what he wrote in the short letter?"

"No." Mary smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, I'm just so pleased to finally meet you."

Buffy felt like she's always known Mary, not because of what Giles had said about her, but because of something she couldn't put her finger on.

"Mary, my second question: What was in that short letter?"

Mary leaded forward. "You're a Slayer and a detective."

"I can Sherlock it up every now and again."

"Please don't tell him I'm telling you this."

"Okay."

Mary took a drink. "The letter said: _Buffy died last week and she saved the world. I hurt in a way I've never imagined possible. Buffy is dead and so am I. I don't know what to do_." Mary paused. "There were tear stains on the paper."

Buffy traced her fingers across the wood grain of the picnic table top. She had never really thought about what the others went through after she died. Giles had never talked to her about it, and she didn't ask.

Buffy glanced at Mary. "You memorized it?"

"It was impossible to forget. I was worried he was going to hurt himself."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Did he try something?"

"No. No. After I got the letter, I tried calling but it took days to get a hold of him. I was ready to call the police or get on a plane."

"Eventually you talked to him?"

"Yes. When I first got him on the phone, I could scarcely understand him. He was just sobbing."

Buffy's jaw tightened.

"I couldn't do anything; he was so far away." She looked off blankly. "I can't imagine what he went through. Losing a child…"

Buffy inhaled. The words _losing a child_ rang in her ears. "But he got better?"

"He got better when you came back, but even then…"

Buffy looked around. She wondered if her father had already left. He wasn't with Dawn anymore.

"Maybe this was too much story for a first meeting. I'm sorry."

"No. It's fine."

"He wouldn't have wanted me to tell you."

Buffy shrugged. "I guess you kind of know all about my life."

Mary shook her head. "Only the highlights."

"My dad is here somewhere," Buffy said. "He never knew I died. He doesn't know what I do."

Mary narrowed her eyes. "I won't mention it."

"That's not what I meant—but it would be great if you didn't tell him—I just meant that…oh, I don't know what I mean."

"It's okay, Buffy. I understand."

Buffy looked into Mary's eyes—they were a bit darker than Giles', but still green.

"Giles said that your aunt originally left this house to you."

"Yes," Mary said, "but I was going through a long divorce at the time, so before my aunt died I asked her to put it in Rupert's name. I didn't want my husband to have a claim on it. It's been in the family for a long time."

"Have you thought about moving back this way?"

"No, my kids are grown and all live in Manchester. I couldn't leave them or my grandchildren."

Buffy nodded. "You should at least come visit more. I know he'd like it. I would, too."

"I will, but what about you? You and Dawn could drag him up to Manchester every now and again."

Buffy laughed. "I'll try." She paused and a smiled grew over her lips. "Do you want to look at some old pictures?"

Buffy led Mary through the house—passed the still crying boy and an exasperated Xander and Giles—and to the pictures in the hall.

Mary gazed at them. "Where did you get these?"

"They were in the house. I've gone through hundreds of pictures."

Mary recognized some. One was of a great uncle who died when she was young, but she remembered that he always had a pocket full of hard candy. There were some that she didn't know, but Mary's face was open and happy with each knew photo.

Mary got to a picture of Giles and his father. Giles was maybe ten years old—he was long and thin. His father was about the age Giles was when Buffy first met him—he was a large man. Not only was he tall, but he was athletic and muscular, much more so than Giles had ever been.

"Okay," Buffy said, "I have a real question now: what was his father like?"

"Rupert's father?" Mary thought about this. "I remember my uncle as a decent man. He took his job as Watcher seriously."

"But what was he like?"

"When I was young, I used to adore Rupert's father. He was funny and charming and warm and kind—that's when Rupert and I lived near each other—his mother babysat me. But when his slayer died, he changed. She actually was never a slayer, just a potential—she died of cancer."

Buffy's eyes widened. "I wasn't expecting that."

"It was very unusual. She was so young. Rupert and I were about nine or ten when she died, and she was maybe fifteen."

"This picture of Rupert and his father was taken after his slayer died."

"What was his father like after that?"

"Distant, sad. After that Rupert and his father would argue and then not speak to each other. Again, Buffy, I should not be telling you this."

"You already started."

"Yes. Well, when we were about fourteen, Rupert admitted that he thought his father wished Rupert had died instead of his slayer."

"God," Buffy said.

"I don't for a moment believe that's true, and I know Rupert doesn't believe that either, but it just goes to show how strained their relationship became."

"Did their relationship ever get better?"

"Yes," Mary said, "only after Rupert joined the Council. They were at least civil. His father died before Rupert moved to Sunnydale, which is unfortunate because nothing would have made Rupert more proud than to tell his father about you."

"Giles and I talk, but there are things he never shares."

"I'm sure he'll tell you. He just needs a little nudging."

Buffy nodded. "The pictures have helped. I've gotten some stuff out of him."

"These pictures are splendid." Mary said, "I haven't seen these in years."

"You can take some if you want. I keep all the photo albums in Giles' library. Let me show you."

Mary put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "No, you keep the originals. Maybe just scan them and email some to me."

"Sure, but I don't mind giving you some—it's your family."

"It's your family, too."

Buffy squinted. "You know what I mean. I'm not _family_ family."

"What?" Mary shook her head and smiled. "This will all be yours some day: the house, the property, the photos, the memories. Your kids will get it and then their kids. It's the family estate."

"Don't count on it. Maybe Dawn will have kids, but I don't see kids in my future."

"You never know. Giles didn't have kids, and it worked out for him."


	4. One Family

**Ten Years Later**

**ONE FAMILY**

At dusk, out beyond the patio and strings of lights, Buffy saw two figures sitting under one of the bigger trees. One figure was the dog, and the other figure was one she would recognize anywhere—she'd recognize him by his shadow, his voice, the sound of his footsteps, or his "English" scent. He had become more familiar to her than her own father.

She kicked off her heals and walked through the cool grass, squeezing her toes around the soft blades. When she got to him, he smiled sleepily up at her and patted the ground next to him. He scratched behind the dog's ears and his was tie loose. She settled down and watched the party. The candles incased in glass mason jars glowed in a soft yellow light. The soft plucking of guitars was distant and warm.

It usually happened like this: in moments where everything was calm and right and happy, she would suddenly think of her mother and her heart would collapse all over again. She tried to imagine what her mother would look like had she still been alive. Would she have aged very much? Probably not. Her soft curly hair would be a little shorter, her wrinkles a little more evident, but she'd still be beautiful. She was always beautiful.

Her mother would have planed the wedding. Her mother would have walked Dawn down the aisle. The wedding would have been in her mother's backyard. Her mother would have helped Dawn choose the right lipstick, and her mother would have given Dawn a gift just before the ceremony. Her mother would have dealt with her father. Her mother would be sitting under the tree next to her. Her mother would have handled everything, and her mother would have been beautiful.

That is how things should have been.

Buffy felt old, so very old. She had lived many lifetimes over—birth, death, and birth again and again. She had saved the world many times, she had loved and lost, and she was still living. The wrinkles around her eyes were becoming more evident. She was dying her hair to hide bits of gray. Her reflexes were slowing, and she knew there would come a time when she would only be as strong and agile as an Olympian during her gold winning performance. She was so very old.

Buffy looked at Giles next to her. His arms were folded across his chest, his head was pressed against the trunk of the tree, and his eyes were closed. He had aged quite a bit since she first met him. He was getting heavier and thinner in all the wrong places. His hair was thin and gray. His glasses were getting thicker. He'd had knee and shoulder surgeries, and his back gave him problems. The years of abuse were taking a toll.

Someday she will be the one to drive him to his doctor's appointments, to run his errands, to help him up the stairs at night, to remind him to take his heart medicine—to help him get things in order.

She watched the party again. People were starting to get quite drunk, and this made Buffy strangely glad. One of Buffy's cousins was laughing loudly and stumbling slightly. And her aunt was sitting quietly watching it all.

"Everything looks different from this angle," Buffy said.

"Yes," Giles murmured.

"Are you sleeping?"

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Just resting."

Dawn was dancing with the laughing-stumbling cousin. He and Dawn were about the same age and had recently developed an email relationship.

"She looks happy."

"She is happy. You've done good work, Buffy." He nudged her lightly. "You could be a wedding planner."

"No, thank you. I deal with enough demons; I don't want to deal with bride-demons, too." She nudged him back. "Thanks for letting us use the house."

"My pleasure. We're building memories here."

She nodded. "My dad left."

"Oh?" He removed his glasses and put them in his jacket pocket. "Did he leave on good terms?"

"I think so." Buffy rethought this. "Actually, I don't know. He wants me to go and stay with him in L.A. He says he wants things to be how they used to be."

"That's a tall order."

"Yeah." Buffy shook her head emphatically. "I don't even know what he means by _the way things used to be_. Does he mean like when all he had to do to win my love was buy me things and take me trick-or-treating?"

"I imagine he does. It was probably the only way he knew how to relate to you. They were simpler times for him."

"When I was his little girl? Before I grew breasts and starting burning gyms down."

Giles laughed. "Exactly."

"I like that he's trying, but at the same time I wonder why now?"

Giles took a drink of champagne. "He's getting older. I imagine he's starting to worry about—" Giles took another drink. "—dying alone."

Buffy chuckled. "He can get in line. Isn't that what we're all worried about?"

He finished his glass and said softly, "You'll find someone."

"We're not talking about me, Giles."

"Sorry."

She sighed. "You'll find someone, too."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I have enough."

A gust of wind came over the hill and rustled the leaves on the tree. There was a brief moment where the only thing Buffy could hear was the wind in the leaves.

"Do you think you'll go back to Los Angeles?" Giles asked.

She shrugged.

"It may be your only chance to connect with him again."

"It sounds scary and hard."

"Yes." His voice was nearly frail. "Well, you know that whatever you decide, you'll always have a home here."

"I know."

Since she'd moved to Fort Giles a few years ago, he'd taught her and Dawn how to cook, how to maintain a garden, how to drive a stick-shift, how to build a greenhouse, how to manage a savings account, how to fix the plumbing, and so on. It seemed he was constantly teaching them something new and practical. Buffy loved it. He was still training her.

"I like it here," she said.

"Good. I like having you here."

"Really?" She played with the dog's collar. "You don't want to have the place to yourself?"

He looked into her eyes. "No. I don't want the place to myself."

She looked away.

"This is your home, Buffy. Even when you move out and start a family of your own, you'll always have a home wherever I am."

She smiled sadly.

He caught the fade in her expression. "I like having you around—all of you. Remember when I came back from Australia a few months ago? When I came home, I witnessed one of the happiest sights I've ever seen: the driveway full of cars."

He tried to stand up, but even while bracing himself against the tree, it was slow going. Buffy stood and helped him to his feet.

"You were all here." He stretched his legs. "All of your cars were in the driveway: Willow's car, and Xander's and Dawn's and yours. Everyone was home. It made me happy."

She too stretched her legs. "We all played cards that night."

"Yes," he whispered.

"Willow won every game. I think she cheats."

"Probably." He paused, "how are you doing?"

"Me?" she pointed to herself. "Fine."

He waited.

She shrugged. "It's been a tough day, Giles."

"I know. You've done well. I know Dawn is grateful."

The sun had fully disappeared and the lights from the party left Giles in a silhouette. No matter how much he had aged, he was still tall, angular, and ruggedly handsome. She was proud of him. She was thankful for him.

"Giles," she asked, "can I have a hug?"

Even in shadows, she could see his face soften. He took a step forward and they embraced. She rested her cheek against his chest and let her shoulders relax. He was warm and the smell of his tweed jacket instantly took her back to the library. They held each other. They didn't hug often, but it had never been awkward. This was the hug she had wanted from her father—the hug she didn't know how to ask for.

Giles kissed the top of her head and whispered: "My little girl."

She finally started to cry. The tears that had been on the surface all day—her entire life—finally emerged. Into his lapel, she sobbed without hindrance; she sobbed without worry; she sobbed without trying to stop. "I miss my mom" was all she could say.

He rubbed her back lightly. "I know, sweetheart. I miss her, too. We all miss her."

She felt like a loved child in Giles' arms—she was the favorite daughter. Safe. Protected. Challenged. Understood. After some time, they pulled apart as stars began to emerge in the dark sky.

He handed her a handkerchief and looked into her eyes.

Buffy nodded. "I'm okay."

She sat down again and he did the same—though much slower.

He pressed his head against the tree and closed his eyes. She wiped away tears and tugged at the hem of her dress. The air was not still anymore. A light breeze teased her hair.

"Tell me about the album, Giles."

"There's not much to tell. Your mum and I listened to it a few times."

"Yeah, that's what gets me. When were you alone with my mother a few times?"

He opened his eyes. "Buffy."

"No, Giles, I want to know." Her voice was small. "All I have left of my mom are memories and stories. Seeing my dad makes me long for my mother—if that makes any sense. I'm desperate to hear about her. Tell me about the album."

He nodded. "The first time we listened to it, she was at my house. It was when we had that chocolate from the marching band."

"Oh…"

"Yes."

"I already know too much about that."

"There were a few times after her surgery, too."

She lifted her eyebrows and said slowly, "So what you told Dawn was true." She thought about that time after the surgery and her heart tightened. "You were in love with our mom, weren't you?"

He nodded slowly. "I loved her, but we didn't have time to really fall in love."

She brushed tears away from her eyes. "Oh, god. I had no idea."

He was quiet, waiting for her to calm.

"You were sleeping together?"

In the darkness, she could see his chest deliberately rise and fall.

He whispered. "It was only for a short time after her surgery. We found solace in each other. We cared about each other deeply."

"Were you in a relationship?"

He seemed to really think about this. He said slowly: "We were just in the beginnings of something."

"Why did you two keep this from me?"

"We never meant to keep anything from you, it just happened that way. Honestly, Buffy, we just starting talking and spending more time together. It wasn't planned."

She watched the party for a moment. Willow and Xander were dancing with far too much arm movement. She loved them.

"Giles, explain it to me—you and my mom." Her voice was level and calm. "I'm not upset, honest. I just want to hear you talk about her. It's been so long since I've heard anyone really talk about her."

"Well—" He stretched out his legs. "When we were at hospital waiting for her to get out of surgery, all I kept thinking was that I'd never been to her gallery. I'd never set foot in there, not even once. I was consumed by this thought. I mean, Joyce and I had a great deal in common. She loved art and artifacts and worked in a gallery. Before I went to Sunnydale, I worked in museums. And we both loved you more anything else in the world. It struck me as ridiculous that I'd not been to her gallery."

"So you went."

"Yes, after she went back to work, right after Christmas. Remember when you lot trashed the Magic Box when I was in England?"

She nodded. "Good times."

"Yes, well, I was so stressed about the impending Council visit and putting the shop back together, that I just up and left the shop one afternoon and went for a walk. I walked all the way to the gallery. I didn't intend to, but I ended up there."

She smiled.

"Your mother—in her head scarf—gave me a little tour." In the dim light, his eyes glowed. "It was lovely, really. She was still rather weak at the time, but when she talked about the exhibits, she was radiant and vivacious. She calmed me. I was so enthralled by the experience that I went back the next day. And I just continued to go back—day after day—during her lunch. I started bringing her food, or sometimes we'd go out to eat, or take walks. Or she'd just come over to my place."

Buffy pulled at the grass around her. "What'd you talk about?"

"You and Dawn. The shop and the gallery. But there were other things. I told her stories from my Ripper days. She told me about her American college experience. She wanted to know about the Council and my training as Watcher. We'd talk about life and love and regret. It was lovely. She captivated me, truly."

She sighed. Her mother was captivating.

He laughed.

"What?"

"I remember one time we had lunch at your house, and we looked through baby pictures."

"Ohmygod."

"Yes. She told me a story about you taking a jump off the bed head first. You wanted to be a dolphin?"

She tilted her head toward him. "Busted my head open on a Barbie play house. Look right here." She parted her hair. "I still have a scar."

He ran a finger over the top of her head. "My lord."

"I guess even at four I was getting ready for my calling—if only my trusty Watcher had been around to tell me that I wasn't a dolphin."

He smiled. "Your mother was a saint."

"I don't know how she put up with me."

He gave her that patient smile. "She was so proud of you," he said. "She loved telling me stories about you, and I loved listening."

"I remember that she was happy during that time after the surgery—I thought it was because she was better. But I think it was you."

He pulled his lips into a thin line.

"You two always had a thing for each other, didn't you?"

"Yes, I was rather attracted to her, and I'd like to think that she felt the same way about me."

"And then you had a secret love affair."

"But it was more than that," he said enthusiastically. "For the first time in a long time I had someone to talk to about you and how much I worried. She understood—she worried more than me. We made an effortless connection. It was a different kind of love—not the lusting or aching—"

"Giles, we can skip this part."

"No, Buffy, you wanted to know—you're not a child anymore."

"I'm sorry I asked."

"I'm trying to explain: It wasn't lust, it was communication. We slept together as a continuation of our conversations, as an act of teaching and learning, of understanding and knowing. It was fulfilling and symbiotic."

"If you weren't talking about sex with my mother, I'd find this romantic."

"It was rather romantic, and it was more than romance. It was better than sex. We formed a connection and a bond." He stared off into the darkness. "There was a short window of time where I felt as though I could've fallen helplessly in love with her."

The _what-ifs_ began circulating in Buffy's head. Instead of thinking of her own, she asked Giles: "If you could've picked the outcome, what would it have been?"

"With your mom?"

"Yes."

"We would have fallen in love. She would have married me," he said confidently. "At that time, I wanted nothing more than to be loved. I wanted a family and a home."

She closed her eyes.

"And I didn't want just any family. I wanted you three."

Tears slowly trickled down Buffy's cheeks. "That would have been perfect." She brushed away tears.

"Perfect," he whispered.

"Would you have wanted kids?"

He chuckled. "Besides you two? Oh, I don't know."

"Oh, come on, Giles, would you have wanted to have kids with her?"

He didn't answer immediately. "Yes, I suppose. I think I would've liked having a house full of children."

"I would've moved out," she said dryly.

"But," he said, "I kind of did have a house full of children. You and the others came in and out of my place as if you lived there."

"You made the mistake of giving me a key."

"It was for emergencies. I didn't want you kicking down my door once a week."

She smiled. "I kind of like kicking down doors—I don't do it nearly enough."

He shook his head.

"What happened?" She asked. "With my mom. She was dating before she died—and it wasn't you."

He inhaled. "It just didn't work. We both realized that I would forever be sending you into danger, and she would always want to stop you. I would have to keep secrets from her. It never would've worked."

Buffy's voice cracked, "I would've been okay with it. I know I always gave you two a hard time about sleeping together, but if she loved you, I would've been okay with you and her. All I wanted was for her to be happy."

"I know. We both knew."

"Really, Giles," she tried to keep her voice steady. "I would've given you a hard time, for sure, but I would've been okay with it—happy, even."

"I know. I know. It was your mum who pointed out that we were more in love with the idea of us than we were actually in love with each other. But those few weeks were good. She healed something in me that had been broken for a long time."

Buffy fixed her hair. "I still don't understand how I didn't know about this. You had the shop and I was at the shop a lot—and so were the others. Someone would've noticed you sneaking around."

He laughed. "It mostly was in the middle of the day. Dawn was at school. You, Willow and Tara had classes. Xander was at work. It was just me and Anya, and she loved when I was away. It was easy to slip out for a few hours."

She lifted her eyebrows. "A few _hours_?"

He laughed. "For a few weeks, she was very late returning to work after our lunch breaks."

"Oh my god, Giles."

He was still laughing. "Sometimes she'd just call in to work and say her head hurt and we'd stay in bed until she had to pick Dawn up from school."

She covered her ears but couldn't help but laugh with him. "I can't believe I didn't walk in on something. I was always barging in to your house."

"Oh." He stopped laughing. "You know, I never thought about that. Small miracles."

"God." She pressed the back of her head against the tree trunk. "So, Giles, did you just give Dawn the music you and our mom used to play while you where—you know."

He ran his hands through his hair. "No, we never played it at those times. I promise." He stared off at the wedding party. "Are you going to tell Dawn about this?"

"Yes."

He grumbled.

"You brought it up with that gift."

"I was thinking that perhaps we could add this to our slayer/watcher confidences."

She pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Not likely."

"I've kept a number of Buffy secrets. Some of which I didn't want to hear in the first place."

"And that's why I love you."

Willow and Xander trekked across the grass with champagne glasses and two unopened bottles.

"We come with the bubbly," Willow said.

Xander held out a tray with an assortment of crackers, cheese, grapes, scones and a few other odds and ends. "And I scrounged up what's left of the food."

"What?" Buffy asked. "We're out of food?"

"Almost."

"It's fine," Giles said.

Xander and Willow sat in the grass with them and poured everyone a drink.

"Should we make some toast?" Buffy asked.

They all nodded, but no one offered anything.

"To us," Xander said, "I think we should toast ourselves."

They were quiet.

"You know, because we're alive. I don't think we've ever sat around and formally marveled at this fact."

"That's not a bad idea," Giles said. "I think we've earned it."

"Okay." Xander held up his glass. "To us, for fighting the good fight and not dying in the process."

"And," Willow added, "I think I'd like to include the ones who aren't here. They died fighting the good fight, and we miss them."

Buffy chimed in: "To the happiness of our little family—including Jeffery who I guess is part of the gang now."

"To us," Giles said, and they chinked their glasses together.

Sometime after the band left and the first bottle was finished, Willow and Buffy were on their backs in the grass, staring through the branches and leaves to the night sky. Except for the voices of the remaining guests, it was quiet.

"I feel so powerful," Willow said. "It's like, bam, you're married and you're married. I can make two people stuck together for life."

"Or most likely until divorce," Buffy said.

"Oh, that's just pessimistic," Willow said. "Or! I can refuse to marry people. That's a lot of responsibility."

Xander was sitting against the tree next to Giles. He leaned close to Giles and whispered loudly, "She's scaring me with this power talk. Also, I think she can literally make two people stuck together."

"Oh, come on," Willow said, "you try to destroy the world once, just once, and no one lets you live it down."

"Yeah," Giles said to Xander. "Don't piss her off—she never forgets."

"What's she going to do—deny marrying me?"

"She'll torture you while saying some really hurtful things."

"Anyway," she said, propping an arm under her head, "maybe I should marry other people—like volunteer work or something."

Buffy thought about this. "Do you really think there's a need? You should just volunteer at a soup kitchen."

"But that's not fun. No, that's not what I mean. I just want to keep making people married. I think I have a natural talent."

"Yes, you are very talented, Willow."

"Thank you, Buffy."

Giles grabbed the second bottle of champagne. "Are we ready for another round?"

He filled their glasses, and they ate what was left of the food. Most of the guests had gone, but the ones that remained were in it for the long haul.

"Oh," Buffy said, "ask Giles the thing."

Giles moaned. "I have a feeling I don't want to hear it."

"So, Giles," Xander said, "Willow and I want to fix up the guest house."

There was a second, smaller house about one hundred yards from the main house. It was the original house on the property. It had been neglected: it needed new plumbing, electricity, and a new roof.

"Why do you want to?" Giles asked.

Willow chimed in. "We've got our apartments, sure, but we travel all the time and we're here a lot. Buffy is here."

"You want to live here?"

"Yes," Xander said. "And our deal is this: we will pay to have it fixed up, and I'll do most of the work, if you let us live there rent free."

Giles took a drink. "Rent free for how long?"

"Forever." Xander shrugged.

"How about ten years?" Willow said.

Giles shook his head. "You want to live here for ten years? Don't you have prospects of having a family and your own home?"

Willow and Xander looked at each other.

Giles caught the look in their eyes. "I'm Sorry. I was just thinking…"

"It's okay," Willow said. "I think we've all given up on that fantasy a long time ago."

They were all suddenly quiet. The realities of their lives and futures were always things that they tried to keep from talking about. It was sometimes just too hard to know that come of the little things other had would not be for them.

"I don't want to talk for Buffy and Xander, but I don't see that in my future."

"You're right, Willow," Buffy said.

Xander nodded.

Giles looked to each one of their suddenly sullen faces. None of them would have a normal life. This was the closest thing to normal they would ever have.

Xander continued his pitch. "It's going to cost us a lot of money to fix that place up—not to mention a lot of time."

Giles shrugged. "Fine. Ten years rent free, but you have to pay for utilities."

Willow shook her head. "If we have to pay for utilities, we should have free rent for twelve years."

Giles smiled. "You can have everything for free forever as long as that place is gorgeous after you're done. And Willow can't use magic on it."

"Awww," Willow and Xander groaned.

Soon, Dawn came and sat next to them away from the party and under the tree. She drank straight from the bottle.

"So," Buffy asked, "do you feel different now that you're married?"

Dawn smiled. "I don't know. I'm really exhausted."

"Where's Mr. Dawn?" Buffy looked off toward the other guests.

"He's getting stuff ready. We're probably going to take off soon. Our fight leaves early."

Willow sighed. "Dawn, have we told you that we love you."

"Repeatedly, but I can never hear it enough."

In the distance, music began to play. They all looked as Jeffery came running over to them.

When Giles heard it he inhaled and finished his drink.

Jeffery stopped next to them. "Is this it, Giles?"

"Yes, it is."

Xander looked around. "Is it what?"

Dawn took Giles hand. "The music he gave me. 'Tales of Brave Ulysses,' Right?"

Giles nodded and wiped a tear from his eye. Buffy starred at him. She was shocked to see such emotion on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that he had fallen in love with her mother. Maybe he loved her long before the candy. It seemed he still loved her.

"So Giles," Dawn asked softly, "do I get my father-daughter dance?"

"Absolutely."

As they danced, Willow stood next to Buffy and took her hand. Soon Xander took her other hand. They watched Giles and Dawn laugh as tried to dance to a song not terribly well suited for a father-daughter dance.

"So," Xander said, "We're going to be living together again."

Buffy nodded. "Like old times."

Willow said, "I'm going to use magic. He'll never know."

"He said not to," Xander scolded mockingly.

"I hate painting—I'm using magic to paint the walls."

Buffy squeezed their hands and asked: "Do you think this will be forever? Like we'll all live at Fort Giles until we die?"

Willow and Xander looked at each other with Buffy between them.

Xander spoke first. "I kind of hope so. Since Sunnydale I haven't really felt like I've had a home. With everyone traveling and living here and there, it's been difficult."

"Yeah," Willow said, "we used to see each other every day. It was nice. I think we can do that here—I think we can have what we used to have. We were better when we were together."

Buffy continued to watch them dance. She said, "Will, use lots of magic to get that house ready. And Xander, start making a plan for what needs to be done. I'll help carry heavy things. We can start next week, just as soon as my aunt and cousins head home. I want you two to move in as soon as possible."

Xander and Willow nodded.

Their next mission was about to begin.


End file.
